Chapter IX: Part 9

Mr. Catlin gives an account of the following scene which occurred while he was with this tribe. “The sensation I created,” says he, “among the Minetarees, while on the Upper Missouri, by taking from amongst my painting apparatus an old number of the New York Commercial Advertiser, edited by my kind and tried friend, Colonel Stone, was extraordinary. The Minetarees thought that I was mad, when they saw me, for hours together, with my eyes fixed upon its pages. They had different and various conjectures about it; the most current of which was, that I was looking at it to cure my sore eyes, and they called it ‘the medicine-cloth for sore eyes.’ I, at length, put an end to this and several equally ignorant conjectures, by reading passages in it, which were interpreted to them, and the object of the paper fully explained; after which, it was looked upon as a much greater mystery than before, and several liberal offers were made me for it, which I was obliged to refuse, having already received a beautifully garnished robe for it from the hands of a young son of Esculapius, who told me, if he could employ a good interpreter to explain every thing in it, he could travel amongst the Minetarees, and Mandans, and Sioux, and exhibit it after I was gone, getting rich with presents, and adding greatly to his list of medicines, as it would make him a great medicine-man. I left with the poor fellow his painted robe and the newspaper; and just before I departed, I saw him unfold it to show some of his friends, when he took from around it some eight or ten folds of birch-bark and deer-skins, all of which were carefully enclosed in a sack made of the skin of a polecat, and undoubtedly destined to become, and to be called, his mystery or medicine-bag.”

The Ricarees are esteemed a part of the tribe of the Pawnees, as their language is nearly the same. They received Lewis and Clarke with great cordiality; but, owing to the abuses which they have suffered from the traders, they now harbour the most inveterate feelings of hostility towards the whole civilized race.

We come now to the Mandans, a tribe, a few years since, numbering about two thousand, but who are said to be now extinct. They appear to have been a remarkable and peculiar people, differing greatly from most other Indians. The impression has prevailed among many individuals who became acquainted with them, that they were the descendants of Madoc, the Welsh chief, who is supposed to have landed on the coast with a colony. This opinion is sustained by Mr. Catlin, who has given a full and interesting account of the peculiarities of the nation. He claims to have traced them up from the banks of the Ohio to their last residence, where he found them. In support of his views, he urges that there is a diversity of complexion among them, some being dark, and some light; that blue and gray eyes are often met with; and that striking resemblances to the Welsh, in language, manners, and customs, are to be found.

Dr. Morse, in his Indian Report, tells us that he was informed by a French priest at Detroit, that, in 1793, he was told at Fort Chartres, that twelve years before, Captain Lord, who commanded at this post, had heard some of the old people observe, that the Mandan Indians, who visited the post, could converse intelligibly with some Welsh soldiers in the British army. It is to be regretted that more attention was not devoted to the solution of this interesting question, before the last remnant of this people had become extinct. The account which Mr. Catlin gives of their warriors shows that there were many valiant men among them. The robe of one of their chiefs, called Mah-to-toh-pa, or the Four Bears, by means of its pictured records, set forth that he had been engaged in numerous encounters with the Sioux, Chiens, Ricarees, and Assinniboins. The following is the substance of his adventures. His brother having been killed by a noted Ricaree brave, whose spear was found in his body, he drew out the lance and kept it four years, with the blood dried on its blade. He then, according to an oath he had taken, prepared to avenge his brother’s death, with the spear by which he had fallen. Sallying forth, he brandished the weapon through the village, uttering these words:--“Let every Mandan be silent! Let no one sound the name of Mah-to-toh-pa; let no one ask for him, nor where he is gone, until you hear him sound the war-cry in front of the village; he will then enter it, and show you the blood of Won-ga-tap. The blade of this lance shall drink the heart’s blood of Won-ga-tap, or Mah-to-toh-pa shall mingle his shadow with that of his brother!”

He then directed his course toward the Ricaree village. When he approached it, he loitered about the wigwam of his destined victim, and, looking through the chinks, observed him smoking his last pipe. He saw him retire to bed. The village was silent, and wrapt in darkness. He now crept softly into the lodge, and seated himself by the fire, where he satisfied his appetite from the contents of a pot hanging over it; he then lighted his pipe, after which, stirring up the embers until he clearly saw his way, with lance in hand, he rose and drove it through the body of his enemy. Snatching his scalp from his head, he now darted from the lodge, and hurried across the prairie. The whole village was roused, but no one knew who had dealt the blow. He ran all night, and lay by during the day. On the sixth morning, at sunrise, he entered his village, showing the blood of his victim dried upon his spear, over that of his brother, while the scalp was suspended from the handle of the weapon.

On a certain occasion, a band of one hundred and fifty Chien warriors made an assault on the Mandan village at early dawn, drove off a number of horses, and took one scalp. Mah-to-toh-pa, though a young man, yet, as one of the most valiant of his tribe, pursued with a party of fifty. About noon of the second day, they came in sight of the enemy. Finding them more numerous than was imagined, the Mandans were about to return, when their young leader galloped out in front, and, after wheeling in a circuit, plunged his lance into the ground. The blade was driven up to the hilt. He then made another circuit, tore from his breast his red sash, and hung it on the lance as a flag. He now called out to the retreating Mandans, “What! have we come to this? Have we dogged the enemy three days, and found them, now to go back like cowards? Mah-to-toh-pa’s lance, which is red with the blood of brave men, has led you to the sight of your enemy; it now stands firm in the ground, where the earth will drink its owner’s blood; you may all go back, and Mah-to-toh-pa will fight these warriors alone.”

The Chiens had now turned back to give the Mandans battle, and their leader, admiring the gallant conduct of Mah-lo-toh-pa, galloped forward within hailing distance, and demanded who it was that had thus stuck down his lance, and alone defied his enemies? The answer was, “I am Mah-to-toh-pa, the second in command of the brave and valiant Mandans!” The Chien chief then said, “I have heard often of Mah-to-toh-pa; he is a great warrior. Dares he come forward and fight with me alone, while our warriors look on?” “Is he a chief who speaks to Mah-to-toh-pa?“ was the reply. The Chien answered, “My scalps you see hanging to my horse’s bits; and here is my lance, with the ermine-skins and the war-eagle’s tail.” “It is enough,” said Mah-to-toh-pa.

The Chien chief, mounted on a fierce white horse, now made a circuit at full gallop, and stuck his lance into the ground, leaving it standing by the side of Mah-to-toh-pa’s, and with a red flag also waving from it. They now drew near each other, and discharged their guns. They then passed each other, and, as they wheeled, Mah-to-toh-pa held up his powder-horn, and showed his antagonist that a bullet had shattered it in pieces. He then threw aside his firelock, drew out his bow and an arrow, and hung his shield on his left arm. The Chien did the same, and both dashed on, sending their whizzing shafts at each other in quick succession. Mah-to-toh-pa’s horse received an arrow through the heart, and fell to the ground. The rider sprang to his feet, and was instantly prepared for his antagonist. The Chien dismounted, drove back his horse, and presented his shield, inviting the Mandan to come on. After a few shots from the bow, the Chien held up his empty quiver, and, dashing it with his bow and shield to the ground, drew his knife, and brandished it aloft in air. “Yes!” cried out Mah-to-toh-pa, exultingly, throwing away also his quiver and shield; but, on feeling for his blade, it was missing,--he had not brought it in his belt! He had only his bow in hand, but with this he parried the blows of his assailant, and at last struck him to the ground. After a desperate struggle for the knife, in which the blade was several times drawn through Mah-to-toh-pa’s right hand, he gained possession of it, and plunged it into the heart of the Chien. Holding it up, the Mandan claimed it as his own, and, taking the scalp of his valiant enemy, he departed in triumph.

Such are some of the feats of the Four Bears. But he and his tribe are now no more. In the summer of 1838, the small-pox, that curse of the red race, was introduced among them by the fur-traders. The Mandans were then surrounded by several war-parties of the Sioux, so that they could not scatter into the plains, but were confined to their village. The disease became so malignant, that, after a person was attacked, death ensued in a few hours. Despair and madness seemed to seize upon the people, and a large number destroyed themselves with knives and guns, or by dashing out their brains in leaping headlong from a ledge of rocks in front of their village. None thought of burying their dead, and whole families were left in ghastly heaps in the wigwams.

Mr. Catlin gives the following account of the melancholy fate of Mah-to-toh-pa. “He sat in his wigwam and saw every one of his family die about him,--his wives and his little children. He was attacked with the disease himself, but he recovered. He then walked out, and, passing around the village, wept over the destruction of his tribe. His braves and warriors, whose sinewy arms once seemed to defy danger, were now but as heaps of clay. He came back to his lodge, and covered the bodies of his family in a pile with a number of robes; he threw another around himself, and went out upon a hill at a little distance and sat down. Despite the entreaties of some traders who chanced to be there, he utterly refused to eat. He remained on the earth till the sixth day, when, faint and exhausted, he staggered back to the village, and entered the horrid gloom of his own wigwam. Laying his body down beside the group of his sleeping wife and children, he drew his robe over his face, and, lingering for three days, at last died.”

Thus, in the course of two months, the whole tribe of Mandans perished, with the exception of some thirty or forty, that were taken as slaves by the Ricarees, who moved from their own abodes and took possession of the Mandan village. This remnant of the valiant Mandans could not endure a state of bondage. Some months after they had been reduced to captivity, when the Ricarees were attacked by their enemies, the Sioux, they ran out together upon the prairie, calling to the Sioux to kill them. “We are Ricaree dogs!” said they. “Our friends are dead,--our warriors are no more,--our villages are in the hands of strangers. We will not, we cannot live!” Then, brandishing their weapons in a manner to provoke the enemy, they were all cut in pieces. Not one escaped, and the Mandans are no more. Where is there a sadder page of history than this?

PRESENT CONDITION OF THE WESTERN INDIANS IN THE UNITED STATES.

From our previous pages it will be seen that numerous causes have contributed to reduce the number of the aboriginal inhabitants of this country, so that but a remnant are now found in the States and Territories of this republic. By the most recent report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs to Congress, the following is the estimated number of Indians in the United States. Of tribes indigenous to the country west of the Mississippi River, 168,909; of those removed, 82,594; present western population of the tribes wholly or partially removed, 89,288; remaining east of the Mississippi, 22,846.

From this it seems that there were but about 300,000 of the various tribes specified yet remaining. But this includes only a small portion of some of the most numerous native tribes, as, for instance, the Blackfeet and others.

The evils attending the proximity of the whites to the Indians, while the latter remained within the bounds of the States, have induced the general government to adopt the policy of their removal to an extensive country west of the Mississippi. The measure was one which was, indeed, attended by great present inconvenience and injustice to those tribes which had become, in a degree, somewhat civilized, as they were forcibly torn from their loved homes, and compelled to commence their journey to an untried country, where they must, as it were, begin life anew. Many perished during their march, from fatigue and disease. But resistance was hopeless, and the only chance that remained of their preservation, as distinct tribes, was in their consent to go; and so they obeyed the mandate, and departed far from their ancient seats of power, and the burial-places of their fathers. They left behind them, in many instances, good houses, well cultivated fields, and various improvements, which were the fruit of the labor of years; and, to the great disgrace of the whites, they were subjected, in some cases, to outrage and rapine, dispossessed of their property, and even wounded, or put to death, while defending it.

The Indian Territory, as it is called, is a tract of country bounded on the south by the Red River, east by the States of Arkansas and Missouri, on the north and northeast by the Missouri and Punch Rivers, and west by the western limit of habitable country on this side of the Rocky Mountains. This has been purchased, at various prices, of the indigenous tribes. The soil is said to be most excellent, abounding in fine water, timber, mines of coal, iron, and lead; at the same time, it is the resort of numerous buffaloes, so that it seems well adapted for the purposes to which it is destined.

The plan adopted by the government has been by purchase to extinguish the Indian title to those lands which they leave, give them others within the new territory, transport them thither, and erect a portion of their dwellings, plough and fence a part of their fields, furnish them teachers in agriculture, and tools, horses, cattle, &c., build school-houses and provide instructors, and make arrangements for the support of those who have not the means at hand, at the outset, for this purpose.

By treaty, the lands are perpetually guarantied to them, and stipulations have been entered into, by which they receive annual sums of money, and other sums are also to be expended in useful articles, and for the purposes of education. Agents are stationed among them, who, as well as the teachers provided for them, make annual reports to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, who includes these documents in his own annual report to Congress. Governments, properly constituted by themselves, are also guarantied to them, and it is understood to be the design to lead them to establish elective governments in each tribe, similar to our own State governments; all to be united in a kind of federal republic. Some of the tribes have adopted the preliminary measure, and have already made important advances towards civilization.

The relative position of the various tribes is as follows. Immediately on the Red River, beginning at the south, are the Chickasaws; then follow, in order, towards the north, the Choctaws, Seminoles, Creeks, Cherokees, Shawanese, Senecas, Quapaws, Oneidas and Tuscaroras, Piankeshaws and Weahs, Peorias and Kaskaskias-Shawanese, Kansas, Delawares, Kickapoos; then, north of these, the Omahaws and Otoes, Missouris, Pancas, and Pawnees; north of the Missouri, the Sacs and Foxes; and west of the Peorias and Oneidas are the Osages.

The Chickasaws have become, in a great degree, merged in the Choctaws. Their district, called the Chickasaw District, they purchased of the Choctaws for $530,000. By the treaty of 24th of May, 1834, it is provided, that $3,000 shall annually, for fifteen years, be expended, under the direction of the Secretary of War, for the education of the Chickasaws. They are a wealthy people, having invested nearly $2,000,000, from which they will soon receive interest; they have also a large fund for various objects, $10,000 of which is, at the present time, applied to the purposes of civilization.

The Choctaw country embraces 19,200,000 acres of good soil, and some 6,000,000 more of a poorer quality. This people are said now to be improving in civilization and comfort. They have many large farms, and much live stock, three flouring mills, ten or twelve cotton-gins, eighty-eight looms, and two hundred and twenty spinning-wheels.

The Choctaw nation has adopted a written constitution, similar to that of the United States. Their legislative body is said to transact its business with great decorum and propriety. Their journals are kept in the English language, but, in the progress of business, are also read off in the Choctaw. They have four judicial districts, and the usual officers of justice. They are likewise, says the agent among them, fast approaching to the division of lands, and carefully seize and destroy whisky illegally introduced among them. By the treaty of 1830, forty Choctaw youths are to be kept at school, under the direction of the president of the United States, for the term of twenty years. Also, the sum of $2,500 is to be applied for the support of three teachers of schools among them, for the same number of years. They have, likewise, a balance of $25,000 of unexpended annuities, which is to be applied to the support of schools at twelve different places; and, by the treaty of 1825, they have a further annuity of $6,000, for the support of schools.

There are among them, as appears from the last report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, fifteen teachers and four hundred and five scholars. The missions there are under the direction of the American Board of Commissioners at Boston, and in their last report they state that the churches have all been enlarged, the aggregate increase having been somewhat more than one hundred. The whole number now connected with five churches is four hundred and seventy-one. The number of Choctaws able to read is steadily increasing, and the demand for books is becoming greater every year.

The Creeks are not so well organized, in respect to their government, as the Choctaws or Cherokees. There are two bands or parties, one under McIntosh, the other under Little Doctor. The first of these brought from their former home their old laws; the latter have framed theirs since their removal. Both of them have their general councils, who combine the legislative, executive, and judicial departments in one. They own salt-springs, cultivate the ground, and follow other pursuits of civilization. Many of them, also, are said to have large stocks of cattle. Before the crops of 1837 had been gathered, it is stated that they had sold corn to the amount of upwards of $39,000, and that vast quantities then remained unsold; and even the emigrants, who arrived in the country during the winter and spring previous to the harvest of that year, broke the turf, fenced their fields, raised their crops for the first time, and sold their surplus of corn for $10,000. By the treaty of the 6th of March, 1832, it is stipulated that an annuity of $3,000 shall be expended by the United States, under the direction of the president, for twenty years, in the education of their children. Besides this, $1,000, by the treaty of the 14th of February, 1833, is to be annually expended, during the pleasure of Congress, for the same object. A great number of the Creeks, and of the Seminoles who are now merged in that tribe, died on the way, or shortly after their removal to the Indian Territory.

The Cherokees have probably made the greatest advances in civilization of any of the Indian nations on our western border. They own numerous salt-springs, which are worked by themselves, and in which they manufacture, it is said, one hundred bushels of salt, daily. They also own two lead-mines. The eastern portion of their country, which embraces the settlements, contains about 2,500,000 acres. They have a large stock of cattle, wagons, ploughs, looms, and spinning-wheels; their lands are well inclosed with rail-fences; and they have comfortable log-houses, with stone chimneys and plank floors, which are well furnished. They have, likewise, seven native merchants, and one regular physician.

Their settled country is divided into four districts, each of which, every two years, elects two members of the national council, which is called “The General Council of the Cherokee Nation.” They have three chiefs, whose approval is necessary for the passage of a law; though an act, notwithstanding their veto, may be passed by a vote of two thirds of the council. They have, also, judicial, and other appropriate officers. By the treaty of the 6th of May, 1823, it is stipulated that the United States shall pay, annually, $2,000 for ten years, to be expended, under the direction of the president, in the education of their children, in their own country, in letters and the mechanic arts; also, $1,000 towards the purchase of a printing-press and types. By the treaty of December 29, 1835, the sum of $150,000 is provided for the support of common schools, and such a literary institution, of a higher order, as may be established in the Indian country. To this is also added an education fund of $50,000, making, in all, a permanent school-fund of $200,000, only the interest of which is used.

From the last report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, it appears that the Cherokees are steadily advancing in knowledge and civilization. Many of them are said to be men of decided talents and learning. The constitution and laws of the nation are printed and circulated among the people. Education is popular among them, and it is probable that they will adopt the suggestion of the agent in their territory, and divide their lands into farms, as individual property. Some unhappy feuds have existed, and, to a certain degree, still exist among them, which have resulted in the death of two or three of their prominent men, especially John Ridge and Elias Boudinot. Their principal chief is John Ross, a man of fine appearance, of considerable ability, and a gentleman.

According to the last report of the American Board of Commissioners, the mission among the Cherokees consists of eighteen persons. There are five churches, comprising two hundred and thirty members, twenty-six of whom have been added within a few months. The temperance society organized there reckons among its members at least 1,560 Cherokees.

One of the most remarkable events in the history of this people is the invention of a Cherokee alphabet, by George Guess, a native Cherokee. In the account of the mission, this alphabet is said to furnish, probably, the most perfect orthography in the world. There has been a paper published in the Cherokee nation, partly in the English, and partly in the native language, and edited with considerable ability. Three presses are employed by the mission in printing books, principally for this tribe, though some are struck off in other languages. Since 1835, besides the Gospels of John and Matthew, and the Epistles of John, there have been printed, at one press, not less than thirty-two different works, nearly all of which were above twenty pages each, making an aggregate of upwards of 2,000,000 pages. The whole number of pages printed among the Cherokees since 1828, as appears by the last report of the American Board, is 4,725,000.

Five schools, under the care of the mission, contain about one hundred and sixty Cherokee children.

Some interesting cases of improvement have occurred among this nation, on which, were there space for it, it would be pleasing to dwell. The Cherokees bid fair, if no untoward events occur, to realize the most sanguine expectations of their friends. Much sympathy has been excited for them, at various periods, during the last thirty years, and especially when they were driven from their loved homes, and the territory guarantied to them by so many treaties; and words of burning eloquence were called forth from some of the most eloquent speakers in the halls of Congress, in depicting the injustice and cruelty with which they have been treated. It is to be hoped that the experiment they are now making may be permitted to go on to its completion, without any further invasions of their rights and happiness.

Besides these principal tribes, who are deriving benefit from missionaries and schools among them, there are missionary stations among the Pawnees, the Sioux, Shawanese, Ottawas, Potawatomies, and other tribes. By treaty, large portions of land, or annual sums, have been set apart for the purposes of education, agriculture, and such other aids to their civilization as appear most desirable. The aversion to labor among some of these nations is said to be gradually wearing off, and idolatry and superstition are becoming eradicated. They still retain their ancient forms of government by chiefs.

The Stockbridge Indians, within the limits of Wisconsin, have recently been admitted to the rights of citizenship, and during the last winter (1843-44) the Ottawas within the State of Michigan have petitioned the legislature of that State for the same privilege. Many interesting particulars respecting the state of the schools and missions among the several Indian tribes, and their present prospects, may be found in the reports of the various missionaries and agents of government, some of which are also appended to the report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs, annually submitted to Congress.

From all these sources we derive the hope, that a more successful experiment is to be made respecting the aborigines of our country than has ever before been attempted, and that the time may soon arrive when they shall be allowed to form a State of this vast republic. The wrongs they have suffered demand the best reparation which a Christian nation can make; and the prayer of many a pious and sympathizing heart is daily breathed forth, that they may henceforth be permitted, without molestation, to learn and practise the virtues of peace, cheered and encouraged in every honest endeavour to do well.

Such, then, as we have attempted to sketch it, is the history of the aborigines of America. It is sad to reflect that so many pages of it have been written, as it were, in blood, and that such multitudes have perished in the vain attempt to resist outrage and oppression.

THE PROSPECTS OF THE WESTERN TRIBES.

Columbus, speaking of the American Indians, said:--“I swear to your Majesties that there is not a better people in the world; they love their neighbours as themselves; their language is the sweetest, softest, and most cheerful, for they always speak smiling; and, although they go naked, let your Majesties believe me, their customs are very becoming; and their king, who is served with great majesty, has such engaging manners, that it gives great pleasure to see him; and also to consider the great retentive faculty of that people, and their desire of knowledge, which incites them to ask the causes and effects of things.”

After the dark and bloody account we have given of the history of the Indians,--especially those within the compass of our own country,--we may smile at the flattering picture presented by the discoverer of the New World. But we must consider that the natives of the West Indies, of whom Columbus speaks, were the mildest portion of the great Indian family; and, besides, at the time to which he refers, they had not become exasperated by the repeated and cruel wrongs of the Europeans.

In estimating the native capacities of the aborigines, and especially their fitness for civilization, we must take into consideration the long train of influences which has been moulding them, for centuries, into their present condition. The history of Peru, as well as that of Mexico, abundantly proves that a portion of them had an aptitude for improvement, evinced by the progress they made in various arts; and it may be added, that, under the instructions of Eliot and Mayhew, even the tribes of New England, regarded as among the most savage and irredeemable, made rapid strides in Christianity and the peaceful arts of civilized life.

If, therefore, in our picture of these Northern nations, we have been called upon to delineate them chiefly as warriors, revelling in blood, and delighting in the terrific scenes of slaughter, pillage, and conflagration, it must not be inferred that such is their intrinsic and necessary character. An experiment is, indeed, now making, on a large scale, and under favorable auspices, having for its object to bring them into the family of civilized man; and in our view of the present condition of the Indians in the United States, we have exhibited the hopeful advances already made by some of the tribes in refinement and the Christian virtues.

The question, then, as to the possibility of civilizing the Indians within our borders, seems, at first view, to be favorably determined. The subject is one of deep interest, and claims the attention of enlightened minds throughout our republic. Our ancestors have inflicted fearful wrongs upon this race; for centuries, their blood has cried to heaven for vengeance. Nor is our own generation free from similar guilt, or similar accountability. But besides the deep debt thus incurred, and which, in this age of light, we should be earnest to discharge in behalf of the remnants of these people, their numbers are still considerable, and, from their own importance in this point of view, they may well claim the attention of the philanthropist.

And there is still another aspect in which this subject becomes one of deep interest. The tribes within the Indian Territory can now muster fifty thousand warriors. They have a fine country, and, in the aggregate, possess a considerable amount of property. Stretching along our defenceless western frontier, they may render themselves indeed formidable, whenever they choose to combine against us. They have horses in abundance, and can transfer themselves, with the fleetness of the Arab, from one point to another. They have fire-arms, in addition to the spear, the bow and arrow, and the tomahawk. They have, contiguous to them, the Camanches on the south, and numerous other tribes on the north and west. These can easily be made their allies, in case of need.

The position of these tribes is, therefore, one of great strength. Let us now consider that their minds must be full of bitter remembrances towards our people. The story of Philip, Sassacus, and Logan may not have descended in their traditions to the present day, but the general story of their race is familiar to them all. When Keokuck replied to Governor Everett in the State-house in Boston, in 1837, he said he had been told by the old men of his tribe, that the ancestors of the Indians once owned and occupied the lands to the shores of the Atlantic. It must be a familiar fact to the Indians, from the Mississippi to the borders of the Pacific, that they were lords of this continent, and that the white man has dispossessed them of their inheritance. They must not only know this general truth, but they must also know and deeply feel the violence and injustice of that process by which their nations have been wasted, and the inheritance, which God, and nature, and their ancestors had bequeathed to them, was wrenched from their hands.

The particular experience of many of them must also contribute to increase their store of bitter recollections. The fate of Tecumseh is familiar to many of them, for those still live who fought by his side. The story of the Everglades, and the doom of Osceola, must be often repeated by those who participated in the scenes of the late Florida war. The bloodhounds, imported from Cuba to hunt them down in the thickets, will be introduced to give effective coloring to the picture of suffering, to embitter the feeling of indignation, and, if need be, to rouse the soul to acts of retribution.

While, therefore, the tribes are now placed by treaty within the Indian territory, and are adopting, by degrees, the arts of civilization, under the auspices of the United States, it must be remembered that they are there not willingly, and that they have carried with them the long accumulated remembrances of their painful history.

“I yield,” said Weatherford to General Jackson, “by necessity, not by choice. My warriors are dead; my people slain; it is vain to resist; but if I had an army, I would still be in the field against you.” It is with such a feeling that many of the tribes have retired to their present abodes; and can we doubt that there is many a daring and independent soul among them, that would rejoice in the opportunity to balance the heavy reckoning which stands summed up in their minds against us?

It has often happened that the wrath of man has been made to work out the will of Providence. Who can tell that the time is not yet to come, in which these Indian tribes shall wreak signal vengeance upon us, and furnish another lesson to the world, in assurance of the fact, that, in the history of nations, great crimes are usually followed, sooner or later, by adequate retribution? It seems evident that this concentration of the Indian tribes in the West must issue in great events,--either in their civilization, and their final accession, as citizens, to our republic, or in future struggles, in which their power will be made the instrument of chastising our country for its former course of injustice.

In this case, there is but one line of conduct for us to pursue, and that is alike dictated by policy and right feeling. Let us do all in our power to bestow upon these three hundred thousand Indians the benefits of our own religion and civilization, and prepare them, as speedily as may be, to come within the fold of our own government, as members of the Union. Let us do this in atonement for former aggression, as a measure of future safety, and as the obvious dictate of common philanthropy.

Let us not permit the common suggestion, that the Indian is incapable of receiving the benefits of civilization, to hinder us from adopting this course. Upon what basis does this idea of Indian character rest? Upon no better foundation, we apprehend, than prejudice,--and a prejudice, too, inculcated, if not engendered, by the desire of finding apologies for the harsh and desolating policy which has been pursued toward the race. The Indians are incorrigible,--therefore let them be swept away. This is the ready logic of those who wish to possess their lands, or who desire to excuse acts of plunder and aggression.

Let us not adopt conclusions too hastily in this important matter. If, hitherto, many of the efforts to civilize the Indians have failed, we must not thence infer that they have a nature which excludes them for ever from the fold of civilization. May there not be some defect in the means, some error in the mode, adopted to instruct them? and cannot we better account for failure in this way, than by resorting to a supposition which seems to impugn the wisdom and benevolence of the Creator?

In considering the possibility of civilizing the Indians, the author of the splendid work on “The History of the North American Tribes of Indians,” &c., makes the following just and appropriate remarks: “We consider the question to be, not whether the Indian intellect is endowed with the capacity to receive civilization, but whether his savage nature can be so far conciliated, as to make him a fair subject of the benevolent effort. The question is, not as to the possibility of eradicating his ferocity, or giving steadiness to his erratic habits, but as to the practicability of bringing to bear upon him the influences by which his evil propensities and his waywardness must be subdued. The wild ass may be tamed into the most docile of the servants of man; the difficulty is in catching him, in placing him under the influence of the process of training. Whenever the bridle is placed upon his head, the work is done; all the rest follows with the certainty of cause and effect; in the contest between the man and the brute, between intellect and instinct, the latter must submit. So it is between the civilized and savage man. The difficulties to be overcome are the distance by which the races are separated, and the repulsion which impedes their approach. There is no sympathy between the refinement of the civilized man and the habits of the savage; nor any neutral ground, upon which they can meet and compromise away their points of difference. They are so widely separated in the scale of being, as to have no common tastes, habits, or opinions; they meet in jealousy and distrust; disgust and contempt attend all their intercourse, and the result of their contact is oppression and war. And why? The repulsive principle is never overcome; the attraction of sympathy is never established. The parties do not gaze upon each other patiently and long enough to be reconciled to their mutual peculiarities, and sit together in peace until they become acquainted. The habit of enduring each other’s manners is not established, nor the good-fellowship which results from pacific intercourse, even between those who are widely separated by character and station.”

Here the great obstacle to the instruction of the Indian tribes is clearly stated; let this be removed, and we have little doubt that we shall soon have to regard the current opinion of their obduracy as founded in error. The circumstances in which these people are now placed,--large bodies of them having made considerable advances in many of the arts of civilized life, having adopted regular governments, holding pacific intercourse with the United States, and enjoying the ministration of zealous and faithful missionaries among them,--are favorable to the making of one more experiment for their redemption, and this, too, with the important advantage of a good understanding between them and their teachers.

As to the capacity of the aborigines for civilization, we have little doubt. We have already hinted at the successes of Eliot, Mayhew, and the Moravians, in Christianizing some of the most savage tribes; and it would be easy to add other facts of the same nature, and tending to the same point. We could also set before the reader numerous incidents, which show that the Indian character is by no means destitute of the finest elements which belong to human nature.

The affecting story of Totapia, a Choctaw mother, known to the whites by the name of Jenny, related by the Rev. Dr. Morse in his Report, exhibits a touching example of the strength and sensibility of maternal affection in the Indian woman, which, in a Roman or Grecian matron, would have been rendered immortal by the poet and historian. She was the widow of a Choctaw, who, having slain one of his own tribe, was pursued by the relatives of the deceased, and put to death, according to the Indian law. After the death of her husband, she settled near St. Francisville, in Louisiana, where she lived reputably, with four or five children, of whom Hoctanlubbie, or Soue, her son, was the eldest.

At the age of twenty-five, her son murdered an old Indian, for which act, according to the unalterable law of the nation, his life was demanded, and he was sentenced to die. The day of his execution was fixed and had arrived, and the relatives and friends of the murdered, with others, a mingled throng, were assembled after their usual manner, and all things were ready for inflicting the sentence of the law. At this moment of strong and mingled feeling, Jenny, the mother, pressed through the crowd to the spot where her son stood by the instruments prepared to take from him his life. She then addressed the chiefs and the company, demanding the life of her son, and offering in its stead her own. Her plea was this: “He is young; he has a wife, children, brothers, and sisters, all looking to him for counsel and support. I am old; I have only a few days to live, at most; I can do but little more for my family. Nor is it strictly just, it is rather a shame, _to take a new chief for an old one_.”

The magnanimous offer of the devoted mother was accepted, and a few hours were allowed her to prepare for death. She repaired immediately to the house of a lady, Mrs. T., who had been her kind and liberal friend, and, without divulging what had occurred, said she came to beg a winding-sheet and coffin for her son. Not suspecting the arrangement of Totapia to preserve her son, the lady acceded to her request. When asked in relation to the length of the coffin and grave-clothes, the Choctaw mother replied, “Make them to suit my size, and they will answer for my son.”

Soon after Jenny had left Mrs. T. for the camp, where all things were ready for her execution, a messenger arrived in haste, and informed Mrs. T. of what was passing in the camp, and that Jenny was immediately to die. She hastened to the scene, with the intention of rescuing her; but Jenny, the moment she saw her carriage coming at a distance, imagining, doubtless, what her object was, standing in her grave, caught the muzzle of the gun, the prepared instrument of her death, and, pointing it to her heart, entreated the executioner to do his duty. He obeyed, and she fell dead!

We are not told how it happened that the son suffered his mother to die for him, or whether he could have prevented it. It seems, however, that he was despised for permitting it, and that his own conscience goaded him. The friends of the old man whom he had murdered taunted him, “You coward, you let your mother die for you; you are afraid to die.” Unable to endure all this, he stabbed a son of his former victim, but not until five years had elapsed since the death of his mother.

He returned home with indications of triumph, brandishing his bloody knife, and, without waiting for inquiry, confessed what he had done. He told his Indian friends that he would not live to be called a coward. “I have been told,” he said, “that I fear to die. Now you shall see that I can die like a man.” A wealthy planter, whose house he passed, he invited to see how he could die. This was on Sunday. Monday, at twelve o’clock, was the day he appointed for his self-immolation. Here a scene was presented which baffles all description. Soue walked forward and backward again, still keeping in his hand the bloody knife. With all his efforts to conceal it, he discovered marks of an agitated mind. The sad group present consisted of about ten men and as many females; the latter with sorrowful countenances were employed in making an overshirt for Soue’s burial. The men, all except two of his brothers, were smoking their pipes with apparent unconcern. Several times, Soue examined his gun, and remained silent. His grave had been dug the day before, and he had laid himself down in it, to see if it suited as to length and breadth.

No one had demanded his death; for all who were interested, and felt their honor concerned in it, resided at a distance of thirty or forty miles. The death-song was repeated, as was also the shaking of hands. Both were again repeated the third and last time. Immediately after, Soue stepped up to his wife, a young woman of eighteen, with an infant in her arms, and another little child, two or three years old, standing by her side, and presented to her the bloody knife, which, till now, he had kept in his hand. She averted her face to conceal a falling tear, but, recovering herself, with a forced smile, took it. His sister was sitting by the side of his wife, wholly absorbed in grief, apparently insensible to what was passing, her eyes vacant, and fixed on some distant object. His pipe he gave to a young brother, who struggled hard to conceal his emotions. He then drank a little whisky and water, dashed the bottle on the ground, sung a few words in the Choctaw language, and, with a jumping, dancing step, hurried to his grave. His gun was so fixed by the side of a young sapling as to enable him to take his own life. No one, he had declared, should take it from him.

These preparations and ceremonies being now complete, he gave the necessary touch to the apparatus, the gun was discharged, and its contents passed through his heart. He instantly fell dead to the earth. The females sprang to the lifeless body. Some held his head, others his hands and feet, and others knelt at his side. He had charged them to show no signs of grief, while he lived, lest it should shake his resolution; as far as possible, they obeyed. Their grief was restrained until he was dead; it then burst forth in a torrent, and their shrieks and lamentations were loud and undissembled.

In the midst of the unnumbered wrongs which the Southern Indians have received at our hands, it gives us pleasure to record an act of justice toward an interesting Choctaw girl; while, at the same time, the incident which led to it is pertinent to our present purpose, which is, to show the amiable qualities which belong to the savages even in the untutored state.

“The Committee on Indian Affairs, in the late House of Representatives, reported a bill allowing a pension for life to Milly, an Indian woman of the Creek tribe, daughter of the celebrated prophet and chief, Francis, who was executed by order of General Jackson, in the Seminole war of 1817-18. The subject was brought to the notice of the Committee by the Secretary of War, at the instance of Lieutenant-colonel Hitchcock, who communicated the particulars of the incident upon which the recommendation to the favor of the government was founded.

“Milly, at the age of sixteen, when her nation was at war with the United States, and her father was one of the most decided and indefatigable enemies of the white people, saved the life of an American citizen, who had been taken prisoner by her tribe. The captive was bound to a tree, and the savage warriors, with their rifles, were dancing around him, preparatory to putting him to death. The young Indian girl, filled with pity for the devoted prisoner, besought her father to spare him; but the chief declined to interfere, saying, that the life of the prisoner was in the hands of his captors, whose right it was to put him to death. She then turned to the warriors, and implored them to forbear their deadly purpose; but she was repulsed, and one of them, much enraged, told her that he had lost two sisters in the war, and that the prisoner must die. Her intercession, however, continued; she persevered in entreaties, and used all the arts of persuasion which her woman’s nature suggested; and she finally succeeded in saving his life, on condition that the young white man should adopt the Indian dress, and become one of the tribe.

“It appears from the information communicated by Colonel Hitchcock, that, some time after this event, the white man sought his benefactress in marriage, but she declined, and subsequently married one of her own people. Her husband is now dead. Her father was put to death in the war of 1817-18, and her mother and sister have since died. She is now friendless and poor, residing among her people in their new country, near the Verdigris River. She has three children, a boy and two girls, all too young to provide for themselves, and, consequently, dependent upon their mother for support.

“The Committee thought that the occasion presented by this case was a suitable one, not only to reward a meritorious act, but also to show to the Indian tribes how mercy and humanity are appreciated by the government. The grant of a pension, with a clear exposition of the grounds of its allowance, would have a salutary influence, it was believed, upon savage customs in future. A bill was accordingly reported, to allow to Milly a pension of ninety-six dollars _per annum_, or eight dollars a month, for life.”

In connection with this detail, we may remind the reader of Pocahontas, who, with proper education, had doubtless proved an ornament to the most exalted station; and we may also relate, at length, the story of Attakullakulla and Captain Stewart, to which we have adverted in the preceding pages.

Fort Loudon, on the River Tennessee, was situated five hundred miles from Charleston, and there were few towns between. It was built in 1756, for the purpose of preventing the encroachments of the French, who used to steal down from Canada, and annoy the white English inhabitants, who were forming settlements in that part of the country. At the same time, it was a safeguard against the Indians, numerous tribes of whom lived round about. These Indians, at all times savage and cruel, were particularly hostile to the whites, and the more so as they perceived them forming establishments in their neighbourhood.

In the abovementioned fort, at the time our account commences, there were but few soldiers. This fact the Indians by some means discovered, and they determined to make an attack upon it, and, if possible, to massacre the garrison.

The plan was conducted, as usual, with much secrecy and cunning, and, before the soldiers were aware, the fort was surrounded by a large number of savages, thirsting for their blood. The fort was strong, however, the gates were shut, and the Indians found it impossible to enter. But they could watch it. They might, perhaps, in time, force the garrison to surrender, because their provisions could not last always. A guard was, therefore, constantly kept round about, and so vigilant were they, that not a single white man durst venture abroad, nor could any come to their assistance.

For a time, the provisions in the fort held out; but, at length, the soldiers were obliged to resort to the flesh of their horses and dogs, which, by reason of scanty food, had dwindled away nearly to skeletons. For two long months, they bore up under the pressure of confinement and stinted fare. The enemy that surrounded them, they well knew, were at all times ferocious; but they would be doubly so now, having become exasperated by watching for so long a period.

The soldiers had stout hearts and good courage; but, at length, they told the officers that they could hold out no longer. Upon this, the latter came together, and, after due consultation, it was agreed to surrender, and to obtain the best terms of capitulation from the Indians they were able.

There was one man among them whom the Indians esteemed,--Captain Stewart. He was accordingly selected to inform the enemy that they had held out sufficiently long, and were willing to surrender, provided they could make suitable terms. The Indians replied, that they might march out with their guns and a little powder and shot, but that the fort must be surrendered that very day; adding, that they would accompany them to Fort George, where their white brethren lived.

As these were better terms than they expected, the English officers did not hesitate to accept them. They marched out accordingly, and speedily set out upon their journey for Fort George. It was noon when they left the fort, and night before they halted.